


I'm Here (When You Disappear)

by Malmignatte



Category: Champions (Comics), Nova (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Brief mentions of kidnapping, Brief mentions of torture, I don't understand comic timelines so I messed with them in return for messing with me, M/M, Miles has PTSD, Miles whump, Sam Alexander & Kamala Khan & Miles Morales (mentioned), We had a power outage so I wrote this, champions (mentioned) - Freeform, first kiss(es)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 04:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malmignatte/pseuds/Malmignatte
Summary: Miles took a break from the Champions, but after the Assessor, he took a break from being Spider-Man.He didn't bank on getting called out for the latter without explanation.





	I'm Here (When You Disappear)

In front of him, the sirens of police cars wailed, and his head _buzzed_ with the knowledge that there was something happening, but he_ couldn't_ do anything. Didn't _want_ to do anything, really. It was just a simple car crash; nothing too dramatic, no one was really hurt, because the driver was rambling in the back of an ambulance, and the person he had T-boned was talking about insurance and pressing a thousand different charges. Just New York City, really. 

Miles adjusted his grip on his backpack. The accident wouldn't have warranted Spider-Man's interference anyway. Sure, maybe he could have stopped it if he had been there early enough, but the thought of catching the bulk of a car, the weight pressing against, his ribs, stealing his breath away --_ oh god_, he needed to get out of there, pronto. Needed more air than the crowds provided. He was suffocating. He had to get out before the pressure cracked his ribs and he was strapped back down, and--

He span on his heel and walked straight into another person. It was a momentary shock that the person he crashed into grabbed his arm at the elbow to stop themselves from falling backwards. Momentary, because while Miles remained upright due to his balance and strength, Samuel Alexander was half hanging from his frame, balanced precariously on his heels with wide eyes, jaw hanging open in shock, but grip sure. Of course he would trust that Miles wasn't going to be dragged down on top of him in the NYC crowd. _Idiot_. 

With a sigh, Miles reached forward, grabbing his other arm and pulling him up onto his feet. "I told everyone that I needed space," he muttered, starting to walk from the crowds, well-aware of the fact that Sam had almost started tripping over his feet in order to catch up, sputtering indignantly. 

"Sure, yeah. You did. You needed space from _the team_," Sam stressed, scratching at his hair, which was falling into his eyes -- helmet hair, Miles' mind provided. Sam had flown? Shouldn't really be surprising. 

"So why are you here? _Again_?" Miles glanced over his shoulder, one skeptical brow raised now that they were in one of the side-streets and he could lean against the brick wall, taking in a deep breath. Yeah, the alley kind of smelled like garbage water and frying grease, but it was better than the cloying crowds that had gathered to spectate a crash that he absolutely could have prevented, but didn't. Couldn't. Could and couldn't, at the same time. 

Sam adjusted his own backpack, which more than likely only contained his black helmet, and scratched underneath his chin. "What do you mean,_ 'again'_?" he asked, casting his eyes upwards and to the left, as though that wasn't the biggest sign that he was bullshitting and feigning innocence. 

Miles folded his arms over his chest, "Spidey-sense. I was avoiding you, for a reason and-- wait, that's why you managed to sneak up on me today. You _knew_ that I wouldn't be able to detect you over the crash," his head jerked back slightly in realisation, and when he looked to his teammate, the smug expression on his face was proof enough that he was right. Sam really could be... surprisingly resourceful, at times. It had been a small handful of months since he'd seen the other teen, but he needed to be more respectful than to just assume that Sam didn't have a grasp on his powers after how much time they had spent getting to know each other. 

"Dunno what you're talking about," Sam lied with a shrug that was over-exaggerated, as if he hadn't looked like the cat who got the cream not even seconds prior. "Anyway, I wanted to see if you were okay. That's not too much to ask, is it? We're friends, Miles. I want to make sure that my friends are okay." 

"And I told you that I needed--" 

"--_Space_, yeah. Trust me, I know all about space--"

"--That was lame, even for you." 

"Shut it, Webs. You wanted space from _the team_. Not from me." Sam kicked off the wall, grabbing Miles' wrist and tugging him toward a rickety looking fire escape. Neither of them were particularly concerned that it would break. If it did, they both knew that Miles would have no problem hauling Sam to safety. That was just how it usually was; their first instincts were always to protect each other, and neither was a stranger to carrying the other. 

Surprisingly, Miles went without complaint, even if he was much stronger than the Nova was currently, considering underneath the sleek Supernova helmet, Sam was just an ordinary, kind of skinny kid from Arizona. They climbed together in silence, uncharacteristic of Sam and the eternal monologing Miles, and reached the roof. 

Sam slid his backpack off his shoulders and immediately sat down on the edge of the concrete wasteland that was the roof of whichever generic building they had climbed, puffing, out of breath because why climb when you could usually fly? He pulled out two cans of soda from his bag and wordlessly handed Miles one, as well as dumping out a handful of wrapped candy between them while Miles sat down, sneakers dangling over the edge of the roof. 

"It's weird doing this out of costume," Miles remarked, cracking open his can of soda and taking a sip. 

"And without Ms Marvel," Sam nodded, going for a chocolate bar instead, looking straight ahead at the New York City skyline, or whatever vantage they had of it from the building. 

Miles hummed his agreement, tapping his free hand against the edge of the building as he took another sip and then set his can down. "So, why are you here? Sure, maybe I said I didn't want a break from_ you_, but..." he allowed himself to trail off, but he didn't have to wait long for Sam to pick up where he'd left off. 

"_But_ you've still been avoiding me," Sam finished for him without hesitation, leaning back onto his free hand, kicking his feet, heels bouncing against the brickwork. "Yeah, I know. That's fine though, Miles. But you've been avoiding someone even more important." 

"Oh?" 

"_Spider-Man_," blue eyes met brown as Sam looked over to him, face set in an oddly serious manner. It wasn't as though either of them were allergic to serious topics, it was just that, well, they didn't usually discuss them with each other. They were best friends, roommates, and... Maybe something more. But this wasn't their usual style of conversation. It wasn't Sam's usual style of conversation, specifically. Sam was, well... Less serious, and sometimes unintentionally oblivious. This level of insight was something Miles would have expected from Ms Marvel, but not the Nova. 

He shifted uncomfortably where he sat, brows furrowing as he looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about," he uttered with a shake of his head, turning to look sharply at his shoulder, flinching from the hand that had come to rest on it, and was soon brought away as if the gaze had burned. 

"Miles, I'm not smart, but I'm not _stupid_." Sam's hand was hovering, but he brought it closer to himself, eventually resting it in his lap. "That girl, Danika. She said there haven't been any Spidey-sightings in Brooklyn in _months_." Of course it boiled down to her and her YouTube channel. Miles really needed to pay her a visit and ask her to stop -- except he knew that it wouldn't be right to attempt to censor the Media. If Peter hadn't done it with JJJ over however many years, he couldn't do it to Danika. "I know what it's like to put aside being a hero for a while. I just want to know that you're okay," Sam said gently. 

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Miles dragged the tips of his fingers down his lips and chin, sighing and closing his eyes. He remembered climbing and climbing and climbing. He remembered stress tests; pressure on his chest, a sea of glass behind a modified treadmill to test his speed. Endurance, strength, speed, weaknesses; there was blood, and bruises, and broken bones when they wanted to explore his healing factor, and so many simulations where he'd thought he was finally free--

The hand was back on his shoulder, both his shoulders, and Miles lashed out without thinking, only to meet indescribable resistance while he gripped at the throat of whoever was touching him. 

_Sam_. 

No,_ Nova_. 

"Wow, real glad I put on the helmet. Pretty sure you would've snapped my neck if I hadn't," Sam remarked with a laugh, reaching up to ease Miles' death-grip from his throat, holding onto his hand. Sam was directly in front of him now, off the edge of the roof and hovering while surrounded by the blue flames of the Nova Force and looking just a little peaky underneath the mask. Probably because his best friend had just attempted to choke him after a simple touch that was certainly meant to be reassuring rather than threatening. 

He came closer, scooped up Miles' other trembling hand, and held them both. "What _happened_ to you, Miles?" Sam asked in a soft voice, with a level of sincerity Miles had really only heard when it was put forward in an ambitious tone, rather than a concerned one. It was almost jarring, if only because Miles had asked his parents, and his uncle, to not making him talk about it. They'd respected that. He'd hoped that his request for space from the Champions would have been enough... 

But of course that wasn't enough for Sam. 

Dragging the other teen forward, Miles guided him by his hands until he was sitting next to him, on the side that didn't have candy sitting there, waiting to be eaten. "_Don't_," said the spider when he noticed Sam was reaching to remove the helmet, dropping his hands between his knees and slumping forward, "not yet."

"Whatever you want," Sam promised, leaning back on both of his hands, one fitting slightly behind Miles due to their new proximity. That was good; comforting. Miles took solace in the fact that Sam would be able to defend himself with the helmet on, just in case something happened. Just in case he did something. Now he knew the upper limitations of his strength and, well, that was really kind of horrifying. However, there was no way that he could take down the black Nova. Sam had been right about one thing when Blackheart's influence had taken him over; he was, by far, the strongest Champion. 

Once again, there was an odd silence between them. No outbursts came from either of them, but no words did either. Not for a while. The offering of food and drinks were forgotten in lieu of the pregnant silence and tension that could be cut with a butter knife. 

Miles eventually sighed and sat up, leaning back, and coming into contact with Sam's shoulder, but when he made a move to adjust so that Miles had space, Miles only twisted at the waist and dropped his chin to rest against the metal plating that covered the Nova Corps uniform. Sam made no other move to pull away, instead raising the hand that was behind Miles to rest it on his shoulder blade gently. 

"Is it about what I did..?" Sam ventured carefully, letting out a whoosh of air when the head against his chest shook 'no'. 

"That wasn't you." 

"I still tried to turn you into a deep-fried tarantula." 

"Sometimes, your knowledge of obscure things scares me."

"Thank you." 

"Still," he sighed, breath fogging up the metallic plates of Sam's uniform, "this was... After. I -- I got kidnapped. No joke. I don't really know why, or how, or truly even _who_, but they pushed me to every limit that I didn't know I had. There were simulations, an tests, and -- it was only a few days, but it felt like a few months. I didn't know what to do, but... Everything hurt. Not just externally. I've hung up the suit before. I had to do it again," Miles explained, moving to pull away until he felt a gloved hand gently urge his head back down. 

He tried to ignore the way his shoulders quaked, how tears dripped down his cheeks. It was the first time in months he wished for his mask.

"That sucks," Sam uttered, but his tone was far from condescending, more like he was looking for something to say before he could fully process the abridged story of what happened. "Miles... I get it. I get you putting the suit away, I get you not wanting to come to us, thinking we would try and intervene. But. I want you to know that I'm not going to be here trying to give you a pep talk to get back into the swing of things --" 

"--Sam!"

"Sorry, sorry, bad joke. But! I'm not. I really promise I won't. I'm your friend," Miles raised his head as the armor underneath him faded back to the worn cotton of a graphics shirt, the Nova helmet scraping lightly against concrete as it was sent down, "I'm -- you know. We're..."

"Yeah."

"_Yeah_, and because of that... I just want to be able to be here for you." His hand shifted, moving from Miles' hair to his shoulder, squeezing. "Now, shuddup and eat the candy I bought for you, and tell me about what's been going on in your super-boring non-super life."

Miles lifted his head with a thankful smile and grabbed Sam's forgotten soda, passing it over so that they could both share a drink and the snacks. They talked about school, about the months hat had passed between seeing each other, about how Miles' uncle ("Wait, the one who dressed up like a Spider-Man and tried to steal a Helicarrier?" "Yeah." "But I thought he was dead?" "Yeah.") had reconciled with Jefferson at the very least. 

Sam told him about his latest adventures in space ("I hate space." "Not my fault you're compulsively sticky!") and how things were back home -- they were both in their final year of high school, wondering about what the future would hold for two former-Avenger-former-Champion-superheroes. How would that affect their college applications? Would they be able to go to college? ("Maybe if you read a book, Sam." "I've read War and Peace!" "What? Really?" "Yeah, a telepathic communist space dog recommended it to me." "I _hate_ space." "Yeah.") What was next? It was hours of idle chatting. They'd both missed it.

The day lapsed into evening, the sugar was consumed and the cans were crushed courtesy of spider-strength and the guy who knew how to recycle plenty of beer cans. Together, after climbing down the fire escape with their backpacks on their shoulders, Sam and Miles wandered through the streets of Brooklyn, shoulder-to-shoulder, thinking about all the things that they had said, and the one huge thing that neither had addressed between them. 

"Oh!" Miles turned on his heel when they were on his street, walking backwards an offered Sam a bright grin, one that he had yet to show today, "and I'm gonna be a big brother!"

Sam's face lit up too, his smile all teeth and bright eyes, "no way! Well, if you ever need any advice, just gimme a call. I'll be here. I'm an awesome big brother."

Miles hesitated slightly and slowed to a stop, "I've been meaning to ask you... I get why you looked for me, but _how_ did you find me without triggering my senses? You couldn't have just been hanging out in Brooklyn waiting, could you..?" 

Scoffing, Sam shook his head, but he did rub the back of his neck. "I realised that I wasn't gonna catch you in your stealth mode just by trying to be lucky, so I had my helmet set up alerts for crimes that you may be around for. I traveled here from the moon just to come and see if I could find you."

"Sam, it takes you, like, three seconds to get from the moon to Brooklyn."

"Truth, and that's why you can call me any time. Okay?" 

Miles huffed, smiling much more softly and watching Sam for a long moment. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, man. I'll call you." 

"And I know it's your birthday soon. I'll be dropping by. But, in case I'm busy," Sam stepped forward quickly, hooking his fingers into the side of Miles' hoodie and tugging him forward, pressing a clumsy kiss to his lips. When he pulled away, it was with a shocked expression, as if he couldn't believe that he had actually managed to breach that gap between theoreticals and silently acknowledged feelings and actually doing anything. Silent acknowledgement had been their dynamic for a long time, but the boarders had been torn down with the simple press of lips. 

Looking like he was about to balk, Sam slid his backpack off his shoulder, the helmet getting closer and closer within his reach. 

Miles put a stop to that by closing the gap between them again, but this time he cupped both sides of Sam's jaw and pressed a much more finessed and experienced soft kiss to his lips. Their eyes both closed and Sam's hands settling very awkwardly on Miles' shoulders. When the two of them finally pulled back, it was mainly because the slightly shorter Nova couldn't stop grinning, and kissing teeth was just a _little_ awkward. 

"Glad we're on the same page," Sam beamed, shuffling nervously. 

"Me too," Miles admitted, cheeks rosy, but his smile almost splitting them. 

Sam shuffled, glancing to Miles' door and then back to him. "Look. I know that now isn't the best time, but if Spider-Man ever needs anything, Nova's ready to help. The Champions would be too, you know that. But... When Miles is ready to grab dinner, you did point out that I'm only about three seconds away from getting here. So. You know. Don't be afraid to text. When you're ready."

Miles had already starting away, but he looked over his shoulder while resting a foot on the first step of the stairs up to his home, "I'll text. I promise." 

"Holding you to that one, Webs."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. See you, space cowboy!" And with that, the door to Miles' home shut behind him, leaving a grinning Sam in his wake, his chin turned up toward the darkened sky.

"Space Cowboy. Sounds kinda badass, huh?" he asked no one in particular as he smiled to himself; chest a little lighter knowing that, while maybe Miles wasn't okay, he was getting better. They were getting better.

**Author's Note:**

> So. There we go. First time writing them together and of course it's whump and angst. I should be working on other things, but I wanted to write this after MM:S-M #10. No betas because I'm a lone buoy in this sea of comics. 
> 
> CC is welcomed an appreciated! 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Fun fact: This was originally titled 'Be Calm' and was a lot more angsty.


End file.
